


Amaranth and Other Flowers

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-24 23:29:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14366031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Molly wakes up with no memories of the past five years, including any memories of her husband, Sebastian. Can he get her to love him all over again?





	1. Amaranth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> I've wanted to do an amnesia fic for a while now.
> 
> Each chapter is inspired by a particular flower and its meaning. First up, amaranth, aka love-lies-bleeding -- "hopeless love."

Molly woke to a blinding headache and a mercifully dim hospital room. _What the hell happened?_ The last thing she remembered was going home after Sherlock’s “funeral.” _Did I pass out and hit my head or something?_ Finding the adjustments for the bed, she raised the head end high enough to where she was somewhat sitting up.

 _Much better._ A bouquet of flowers by her bed caught her eye. The flowers were actually long, lush clusters of tiny dark red flowers that looked as soft as velvet. Unable to resist, she reached out to touch them, finding they were indeed as soft as they looked. _Beautiful. Now, what-_

Her line of thought was cut off by the sight of a man she didn’t recognize lying on the sofa by the window. _He takes up the whole sofa so he must be pretty tall. Of course, most blokes are tall to me. Really fit, he must work out like crazy. Ginger hair. I always did have a weakness for gingers. A couple of days’ worth of stubble._ She stole a quick glance at his left hand, which was resting on his stomach. _Wedding ring. Disappointing, but at least he’s good eye candy. I wonder what color his eyes are._

A voice in her head that sounded an awful lot like her late mother harangued her. _Margaret Anne Hooper, shouldn’t you be wondering instead WHAT THE HELL A STRANGE MAN IS DOING IN YOUR HOSPITAL ROOM?!_

“Oh, he’s probably the doctor or maybe even a police officer and fell asleep waiting for me to wake up,” she muttered, not at all bothered by his presence. After having Sherlock in her flat for several days between his “death” and his “funeral,” this sort of thing didn’t faze her.

The sound of her voice woke him with a start and he stared gorgeous slate blue eyes at her for a heartbeat before his face lit up. “You’re awake!”

“Um, yeah,” she said, confused by his joyful expression. “Do you mind telling me what happened and who you are?”

He stared at her as he sat up. “You don’t recognize me?”

“No, should I?” _Maybe he’s one of Sherlock’s Homeless Network? No, he doesn’t look homeless._

“I’m your- Wait, do you know your own name?”

“Of course I do – Margaret Anne Hooper, but I prefer Molly. Dr. Hooper if we’re being formal.”

“And you really don’t know me?”

“No, I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands. Her right had an IV stuck in it, which she expected, but her left had a wedding band and an engagement ring, which she definitely did not expect. She scowled at them in confusion. “What-”

The man sighed heavily. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Molly. I’m Sebastian Moran, your husband.”

She could feel the blood leaving her face as she stared at him. “You-you can’t be my husband, I’m not married…”

Sebastian slowly got up then approached the bed, stopping when she inched away from him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Molly hesitated for a moment then said quietly, “Sherlock’s funeral. I … I assume you know who that is.”

He smiled a bit. “Yeah. There are times when I wish I didn’t.” His smile faded as he pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down. “Molly … Sherlock’s fake funeral was five years ago, he’s been back from taking down Jim’s web for three years. You and I have been married for two years. We met, actually, shortly after the ‘funeral.’”

She tried to make sense of it all. “So, what, you’re saying I’ve forgotten the last five years?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“But how? Retrograde amnesia normally only occurs after trauma, whether emotional or…” She raised a hand to her forehead and felt a bandage.

“You slipped on wet pavement outside our building and smacked your head on the curb. The doctor thought there might be some memory loss … but I’m sure she wasn’t expecting you to forget the past five years.”

As if summoned by Sebastian’s words, there was a light knock on the door than a woman Molly didn’t recognize wearing a lab coat came in and smiled at them. “Ah, you’re awake, good. How do you feel?”

* * *

Seb stood by while his wife answered Dr. Reeves’ questions the best she could. When the doctor realized the extent of Molly’s memory loss, she ordered several tests.

“What the hell are tests going to tell you?” he asked, his irritation rising. “We know what’s wrong, we know what caused it.”

“Please relax, Mr. Moran,” Dr. Reeves said gently. “We need to know the extent of Molly’s brain injury, it’s not something we could gauge while she was unconscious.” She started talking about the types of tests she wanted done.

Seb could practically see the words flying over his head. “D’you mind if I phone a friend? I need someone to explain all of this to me.”

“Of course,” she said.

He stepped out of the room then pulled out his mobile and called John.

He answered after the first ring. “Seb? How’s Molly?”

Seb ran an uneasy hand through his hair. “She’s awake but … fuck … she doesn’t remember anything after Sherlock’s ‘funeral.’”

“Oh Christ… You mean she doesn’t remember you at all?”

“Correct. I told her my name and that we’re married, but how the fuck do I tell her that I worked for Jim? That I dated Jim the same time he was using her? Or that I once slugged Holmes for suggesting I was anything less than a gentleman with her?”

“She’ll probably slap you all over again for that one.”

“If it helps her remember, she can slap me to Buckingham Palace and back. Look, the doc is talking about all of these tests she wants to do and none of the words make any sense to me. Can you come over here and mediate or something?”

“Sure, I’ll be right over.”

Seb hesitated a moment then let out a resigned sigh. “Bring Holmes and Mrs. Hudson. It might help her if she’s with people she actually remembers.”

“Right. Sherlock doesn’t have a case at the moment, he’s probably experimenting.” After a moment, he said gently, “Most likely, this is only temporary, Seb. She just needs time to heal.”

“And if it’s not?” Seb asked quietly.

“If it’s not, then you get the chance to woo your wife all over again.”


	2. Amaranth II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More "hopeless love." The next chapter will be a different flower, I promise. :)

Seb’s thoughts of Molly were interrupted by a Starbucks cup waving slightly in his face. He looked up to see Mary, who smiled at him sympathetically.

“I thought you could use the caffeine,” she said.

He took the cup, mumbled his thanks as she sat down next to him, then took a sip. They were sitting on a bench outside the hospital while Molly talked to Sherlock, John, and Mrs. Hudson.

“Right now,” he muttered, “your husband, Holmes, and Mrs. H are telling Molly she really is my wife and I haven’t brainwashed her or anything. She probably doesn’t believe any of it.”

“She has no reason to yet,” Mary said sensibly. “It would be different if she still remembered you at all, but you’re a complete stranger to her right now. Until her memories come back, you have to let her get to know you.”

“John said something similar.” He took another sip of his espresso. “Maybe I should move out of the flat.”

“Why?”

“To give Molly the space she needs.”

“Her space is important, but I don’t think moving out is necessary. Sleeping in the guestroom is probably enough.”

“Then I guess it’s good we hadn’t turned it into a nursery yet.” They had been trying for a baby for a few months with no success. “They tested her blood after they brought her in – she’s not pregnant.”

Mary reached over to take his hand and gently squeeze it. “I’m sorry, Seb.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “It’s probably better this way – she wouldn’t want to be carrying a stranger’s child.”

“She will want to carry your child when it’s time.”

Seb’s mobile chirped. He let go of Mary’s hand then pulled his mobile from his coat pocket and checked the text.

**Molly’s asking for you. The rest of us are going to lunch. Text me if you need us. John**

He looked up at Mary. “She wants to talk to me while you lot are at lunch.”

Mary nodded. “She probably has a million questions, now that she knows you’re telling the truth. Remember, we’re here for both of you.”

“Thanks, Mary.”

* * *

Molly watched from the bed as the man her friends assured her actually was her husband walked into the room. Once again, she was struck by how handsome he was. _Back it up, Hooper. You need to get to know this guy first._

Seb sat down in the chair beside the bed, his expression neutral. “John said you were asking for me.”

“Um, yes. They told me it’s true, that you and I really are married. They showed me photos from their phones and everything.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I looked … happy.”

“You were, Molly,” he said softly, all forced neutrality gone. “You are. Very.”

“If I’m so happy, then why don’t I remember any of it?” She sighed quietly. “I know, I know – the trauma.” She looked up at him. “I have all of these memories in my head and I can’t get to them. John and Dr. Reeves think I will, but what if they’re wrong?”

“Then we focus on making new ones.” Seb reached out to take her hand then apparently thought better of it. “What did they tell you about me?”

“Um, not much – they said you should be the one to tell me.”

He smiled a bit. “So, ask away. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty, six years older than you.”

She frowned in confusion for a moment then nodded. “That’s right, I’m five years older than I think I am.”

“If it helps, you don’t look a day over thirty.” His playful smile and dancing eyes made her insides pleasantly warm.

 _It’s like my body still knows him._ She smiled a bit. “It does, yeah. What do you do?”

His smile instantly died. “That’s a story for another time.”

“But…”

“Ask me something else, Molly,” he said firmly.

“No,” she replied just as firmly. “If your job is something I already knew, then why can’t you tell me now? What difference does it make?”

He ran a hand through his hair and her fingers suddenly itched to do the same. She looked down at her hand in surprise. When she looked back up at him, he was looking at her hand as well, specifically her rings, his jaw clenched. “Sebastian?”

“I’m a sniper,” he said, his voice distant and cold. “You know what that means, right? I shoot people from a distance; I’m a professional killer. Right now, I work for Mycroft Holmes but up until Sherlock’s fall, I worked for, and dated, Jim Moriarty.”

Molly could feel the blood leaving her face. “You … no…” She instinctively moved away from him, as much as her bed and the IV would allow.

Seb cursed softly. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you until you knew me better.”

“Did I know all of that before I married you or did you spring it on me on our wedding night?” she asked quietly.

“You knew it before we started dating. I can kill someone in cold blood but I refuse to deceive the woman I love.” He finally gave in and took her hand. “You’re the person who convinced me to go straight. I gave Sherlock all the information I had on Jim’s web then I started working for Mycroft. I still kill people, but now it’s to protect the nation.”

She looked down at her hand in his much larger one then back up at him. “Why … why would I do that?”

“You saw the good in me, something no one else had seen in a very long time.” He smiled softly. “To be honest, I think I fell in love with you at that moment, it just took a while for me to realize it.”

His declaration tugged at her heart but she couldn’t get past what else he told her. “Did you love Jim too?”

“As much as he let me. He was too much of a narcissist to love anyone, so it was hard to love him, but I did my best. I kept him from going off the rails. Well, from going off the rails any more than he already had.”

Molly swallowed hard. “So, you were dating him while he was using me?”

“Yes.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, “I tried to stop him. Nobody should be used like that, but he kept saying it was all part of his plan.” Seb lightly squeezed her hand. “You deserve so much better, Molly, and that’s what I’ve tried to give you.”

 _Does he really think he can make up for how Jim treated me?_ Molly pulled her hand away. “I think you should go,” she said quietly.

“Molly…”

“Go.” She pointed to the door.

He swallowed hard, his eyes pained, but then he nodded and stood up. “Call me if you need me, my number is in your phone.” He moved to the door.

Just before Seb left the room, she felt compelled to say, “Don’t assume that just because we’re married now that we’re going to stay married. I don’t know you and after this, I’m not sure that I want to.”

The hurt in his eyes was almost enough to get her to take it back.

Almost.


	3. Red Peony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red peonies -- "devotion."

After two days of tests and observation, Dr. Reeves sent Molly home. Seb was happy to have her out of the hospital, but he knew better than to think everything would be smooth sailing. He had seen her only briefly after she threw him out – first thing in the morning to see how she was, then again at the end of visiting hours to say goodnight, and any time Dr. Reeves needed to tell him something or had a question. Otherwise, he stayed out of the hospital, spending most of the time at their flat.

Thankfully, Mycroft had given him all the time off he needed. “Snipers are a dime a dozen,” he’d said. “Snipers with something to live for? That’s something else entirely. You are on paid leave until your wife returns to work.”

While he would’ve liked working if only to have something meaningful to do, Seb spent part of his unexpected alone time moving everything of his into the guestroom. Clothes, books, everything. All of his toiletries were stashed in the guest bathroom.

The morning of Molly’s release, Seb drove to the hospital, craving a cigarette the entire time. He had given up smoking when they started dating since he knew she hated the smell. While his lungs were thankful he had left the unhealthy habit behind, his brain still craved it during times of stress.

_And nothing could ever be more stressful than my wife not knowing who the fuck I am_ , he thought as he walked into the hospital then took the lift to her floor. He hesitated for a heartbeat before knocking lightly on the door to her room.

“Come in.”

Opening the door, he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. There was no missing the disappointed look on her face.

“I thought John and Mary were taking me home,” she said quietly.

“Sorry, spouse’s prerogative,” he muttered. _Not that we’re going to be spouses much longer if she doesn’t remember soon._

Molly said nothing during the drive back to their building, but she did watch him the entire time. Seb normally loved having her eyes on him, but this just made him uncomfortable. _She doesn’t like what she sees._

It wasn’t until they were walking down the hallway to their front door that she spoke up. “Why did we decide to stay in my building after the wedding?”

“You love your flat and my place was a hole in the wall,” he said simply, unlocking the door and letting her go in first. He followed her in, setting her suitcase down in the foyer and following her into the open kitchen-sitting room.

The bouquet of red peonies he’d bought for her was on the island but Molly didn’t give it more than a passing glance as she looked around, frowning in confusion at his things and things the two of them had bought together, then she looked at him. “We don’t have a pet?”

“No, you were never ready to adopt another pet after Toby passed and I never had one.” He took a deep breath. “We have talked about having a baby.”

She stared at him. “You … no, that can’t be.” She seemed at a loss for a moment then went into the kitchen then put the kettle on. He followed her, staying a few feet away so as not to invade her personal space. “I can’t believe I married you after what you let Jim do. I definitely can’t believe I was considering having children with you.”

The past tense hurt but he shook it off. “You love me, Molly. You don’t remember it right now but you do. I’ll always feel guilty that I didn’t do more to stop Jim but you forgave me. Everything I’ve done since Jim died has been to make up for what he did, to you and to England.” He lightly laid his hands on her shoulders, feeling her immediately tense. “He used you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, much more than I ever thought I could.”

“Just … save it, alright?” She shrugged off his hands, then turned to look at him. “I don’t know what I was like before, but I will tell you one thing – I’m not proud of that Molly for letting herself get involved with one of Jim’s men.”

Seb could feel his temper rising but he kept it in check. “We’re a hell of a lot more than just ‘involved,’ Molly.”

“Right now, Mr. Moran, you’re barely more than a stranger to me. A stranger that, frankly, I don’t want to know better.” The kettle whistled and she busied herself making tea. “I’d ask you to move out but it sounds like you have nowhere else to go.”

“I’ve moved out of our … your bedroom. You’ll be sleeping alone until you say otherwise.”

She nodded, not looking at him.

“Molly … you can push me away as much as you want, but I am not abandoning you. You’re my wife, I love you, and I will see you through this, however it ends.”

“Then I hope you have a lot of patience, Sebastian.”

“I’m the most patient person you know.”

* * *

_Of course he’s patient,_ Molly thought that night as she lay in bed. _He’s a sniper, he probably has to sit and wait for hours for his target to show up._

Unable to sleep, a recurring problem since she first woke up in the hospital, she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. Finding the husband she couldn’t remember tossing back a shot of whisky was not something she expected to see.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, not looking at her.

“Good guess. I take it you can’t either.”

“Except for the time you had bronchitis last year, we’ve always shared a bed. It’s hard to sleep alone after two and a half years of that.” He poured himself another shot then downed it. “Your chamomile tea’s still in the cupboard.”

“How did you…” She shook her head a bit. “I guess my habits haven’t changed in five years.”

“You’ve changed in little ways, but you’re essentially still the same person you were then.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “How have I changed?”

“You’re more open. After pining after Holmes for years then getting your heart broken by Jim, you were ready to give up on love. I might add that you’re also happier. John was my best man and as Greg was walking you down the aisle-”

“Greg walked me down the aisle?” she asked, surprised.

“He insisted. He said that as a father himself, he couldn’t let you walk down the aisle alone. Anyway, John told me that I made you the happiest he’d ever seen you.”

“I … I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Sebastian eyed the whisky bottle then put the shot glass in the dishwasher.

“Going back to bed?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I doubt I’ll sleep. I probably just read until morning.” He glanced at her. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.”

He left the room. Molly picked up the whisky bottle and was struck by a memory, nearly dropping the bottle in surprise.

_I gave this to Seb for Christmas. It’s his favorite._ As hard as she tried to remember, nothing else came to her. _I … guess this is progress._


End file.
